


116. Hot Springs

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [116]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-15 20:23:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1317991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	116. Hot Springs

_**Sam and Ryan[](http://www.journalfen.net/users/kwanten/profile)**_[ **kwanten**](http://www.journalfen.net/users/kwanten/): hot springs  
 **players only. backdated to mid-August. takes place after[the boys are left alone on a mountaintop](http://www.journalfen.net/users/kwanten/27115.html).**

Somehow, they manage to make it back to camp before dark, and with just enough time for a quick dip in the hot springs. Ryan can't remember when he was last so grateful to clean up: between the physical exertion and the lack of bathing facilities the past few days, he's been feeling downright grimy. But now, naked with Sam in lusciously clear warm water, like a giant spa bath out under the sunset... He manages to content himself with a few playful splashes, and doesn't jump his lover like he wants to.

"Oh man," Sam says, head back against the rock, smiling over at Ryan. "This... fuck. This is brilliant." Although he suspects if he relaxed anymore, he'd just slip quietly into the pool. "I don't know about _hot_ springs, but thank god this is here. Andreas said there's not another shower or water like this until we get to Aguas Calientes." Which of course means hot waters.

"Definitely make the most of it then," Ryan agrees with a smile, tipping back to float on the surface, turning his face to the sun. His erection went down some with the exertion of the hike -- thank goodness, or people would be able to see it from miles away right now.

"Oh I plan on it," Sam murmurs, grinning, more than a hint of mischief in his eyes.

The sly tone in Sam's voice catches Ryan's ear, and so he glances aside... but there's Sam, just looking relaxed and happy. So Ryan figures maybe he heard wrong. He lies back again, softly dragging his arms through the water. Breathing in the clean unfamiliar air and letting contentment spread through him to his fingertips.

"Did they say they were going to call us when dinner's ready?" Sam asks, rousing himself from his place against the rocks and slowly making his way Ryan's side. "Or are we supposed to get out first?"

"They'll probably tell us. I think we've still got a bit of time before that, though," Ryan murmurs. He sits up and treads water, barely restraining himself from brushing droplets from Sam's scruffy beard. "Are you hungry now? I'm sure I could find you something."

"I'm good," Sam says, recognizing the aborted movement and wishing he could kiss Ryan, right here, hold him in his arms, "but thanks. I just couldn't remember what they'd said and I'd hate to think we were holding things up."

"Nah." Ryan shrugs, then smiles. "So what do you want to do tonight?" he asks, since they'll be camped here until morning. "Ghost stories by the fire?"

"I think the only ghost story I know is the one about the hook," Sam says, watching the water roar past on the other side of the pool.

"The hook?" Ryan grins and shakes his head. "I'm shaking already." He turns his head at a shout from the shore, and waves his hand to let Andreas know they've heard.

Sam laughs, reluctantly making his way out of the water and towards their travel towels and clothes. "You know that one already. It's the guy and girl making out in the car and the radio announcer comes on with news about the madman escaping the asylum."

"Ahhh, right. And they hear a scratching, and then the boyfriend leaves the car to investigate... That one?" Ryan towels off, carefully looking away from Sam's naked body as he gets dressed.

"Yeah." Sam laughs again, making a face as he pulls on his only other set of clothes which are fairly grimy too. Just drier. "I'm telling you, we have to make time to get some laundry done when we're back in Cusco."

"I'll take care of it," Ryan promises, shrugging into his own t-shirt and shorts. He drapes the wet towels over their tent, then goes to give Andreas and the others a hand. Soon, they're all seated on the ground, laughing over a fresh-cooked meal. Ryan has to snicker over the way Andreas translates for them; Sam's Spanish, though impressive enough for Ryan, doesn't quite stand up to their guides' thick South American accents.

It's not long after dinner - and a few beers - before the porters are calling it a night and even Andreas is indicating he's going to turn in as well. He shows them a can of dirt to throw over the fire when they're done and makes sure they have their head lamps to be able to make it the few steps to their tent. "Tomorrow, we will get up at five and have breakfast and start walking five-thirty, six at the latest. The porters will follow."

Sam nods. Five. Fuck. This is supposed to be a vacation. He eyes Ryan with suspicion again. "You sure you didn't have anything to do with this schedule?" he teases.

"You know it's not the way I prefer to wake you," Ryan whispers back with a grin. "Maybe next time we'll hit a resort," he suggests. "Beautiful women can bring you fussy fruity drinks at the poolside, and you can sleep half the day in the sun."

Sam makes a face. "Surely, there's an in-between," he says, finishing off the last of his beer.

"Gorgeous boys bringing you beers, and you can fuck half the day in the sunshine instead?" Ryan murmurs.

Sam laughs. "Still not quite what I had in mind, but better than the first one," he says, pushing to his feet. "Come on." He nods towards their tent. "We should turn in, too."

"All right." Ryan gets to his feet and puts out the campfire. Brushing dirt off his shorts, he searches automatically for something more to clean up, then decides anything else can be safely left until morning. Their tent stands out in the glare of the headlamps -- staked a good twenty feet away from the others. Ryan barely waits until he's inside before he starts pulling off his clothes, happier to just be naked in this humidity.

Headlamp still on, the light on its lowest setting, Sam stretches out on top of his sleeping bag and crooks a finger at Ryan to join him.

Ryan grins and checks the zippered closure on the tent. Then he lies down, half on top of Sam. "Hey," he breathes, licking out at Sam's bottom lip.

"Hey," Sam murmurs, smiling. "I've been looking forward to this all day."

"Yeah?" Ryan stretches and then slides his arms around his lover. "And what are you going to gag me with tonight?"

"I don't think I have any clean t-shirts left. This is probably the cleanest," Sam says, dragging the one he wore the first day out of his pack and handing it over, his headlamp turned off and set aside. "But since I want you on all fours, you'd better use it."

"Mmm, yes Sir." _Fuck yes_. Ryan had been half-joking - last night they were so beat after the day's trek that they actually just went to sleep - but he's damn grateful for the offer. He rolls off Sam and onto his knees, rolling up the shirt and stretching it around his head. He braces on his hands, cock swelling already.

"Good boy," Sam murmurs, careful to keep his voice as low and soft as possible, constantly aware of the men sleeping not too far away from them. But still, he can't resist. He kneels behind Ryan, spreading his lover's cheeks with his hands and licks a long line from the back of his balls to his tailbone, tongue stuttering over his hole.

Ryan's breath catches and he jerks forward, shocked. It's the last thing he was expecting. But fuck it feels good, and he bites back a tiny whimper as he relaxes once more.

Sam grins and licks over the same path again, rubbing his scruff against the insides of Ryan's cheeks, against that oh-so-sensitive skin. Flicks his tongue over and around that tight pucker, teasing the tip just inside.

Oh, now that is just fucking mean. Ryan winces slightly at the quick scratch, the surprise of it. But the penetration of Sam's tongue wipes everything else from his mind and he feels himself starting to go boneless with arousal already.

Feeling the shift in Ryan, the way his body loosens, Sam licks deeper, fucking his tongue into his lover. His cock throbbing with lust at the taste of him, at the scent and sweat of him, their dip in the pool not nearly enough to erase everything.

Ryan moans softly into his gag. He arches his back, dropping down to brace on his forearms. Begging silently. Desperate for more.

Sam tightens his grip on Ryan's cheeks, digging his nails into Ryan's skin as he pulls them apart and pushes his face deeper, beard scratching, raking harder as he stabs his tongue into his lover's hungry hole.

 _Fuck fuck fuck!_ It's a vicious mix of pain with something Ryan knows as pure pleasure. He grinds his teeth into Sam's shirt, trying so damn hard to keep quiet. And he has to fist his hands on the tent floor to keep from grabbing at his cock. So fucking needy.

Sam loves doing this. Loves fucking his tongue into Ryan. Loves hearing and feeling him come apart, never mind the fucking gag. He reaches under Ryan, gripping his cock tightly in his hand, fingers forming a steel band around the base. His boy's not coming until he decides he is.

Ryan shudders at the sudden denial, and can't help bucking against Sam's hold for just an instant. Then he settles again - not relaxed now, not anymore - trying to resign himself to enduring, holding out.

Sam licks even deeper, pushing his tongue into Ryan as far as he can get it, face buried between his cheeks, wet with spit and reveling in the baseness of this, in the thought of the men only feet away from them. From this. In the thought of being heard. Caught.

Whimpering softly, Ryan fights to keep from rocking his hips, trying not to push back against Sam. "Please," he whispers, unaware if Sam can even hear him.

Sam can guess at the word, even through his t-shirt, but he's not done yet. Not even close. He grips Ryan's cock even tighter and keeps stabbing his tongue into that hole, his own cock throbbing violently between his thighs, begging to replace it.

Fuck, did Ryan think he was desperate before? That was fucking nothing. He can't stop himself now, just jerks wildly against Sam's grip, trying to get friction on his aching cock even though he knows that will fucking end him.

Grinning, his beard soaked, face smeared, Sam leans back just enough to whisper, "You want to come for me, boy?" One long stroke pulled along Ryan's cock.

Ryan whimpers, his body surging forward. _Yes!_ Fuck yes.

"Then do it. Just know I'm still going to fuck you," he warns, diving back between Ryan's cheeks, his tongue plunged as deep as it'll go while he abuses Ryan's cock, roughly working it in his hand.

Shaking, Ryan grinds his teeth into his gag and feels himself explode. He bucks into Sam's hand, overwhelmed with the intensity of his lover's touch. And god, he needs -- needs so fucking much to have Sam's cock inside him.

"Good boy," Sam whispers, pulling back and draping himself over Ryan, his hand between them, feeding his cock into Ryan's gaping spit-slicked hole. In an instant, he's in all the way. Pulling out and slamming deep and then deeper again, so fucking hard he'd swear Ryan's going to able to taste him, his teeth gritted against crying out. Against giving them away.

Bracing hard on his forearms, Ryan shoves back. Fuck, it's so fucking good. He does it again, trying to get his lover to fuck him faster, harder.

Sam drives into Ryan, nothing held back, no goal except his own pleasure, his own gratification, his lover having already come. He slides a hand into Ryan's hair, pulling his head back and _rides_ him, fucking into his hole, his teeth clenched, until he can't hold out any longer and he comes, so fucking violently there's stars behind closed lids.

Ryan gasps around the gag, straining every muscle. He whimpers softly, barely managing to even stay up at this point. Ready to melt, boneless, to the ground.

Panting heavily, Sam releases his hold on Ryan's hair and pets his hand down his lover's back, over his flanks, like he's settling him. Christ. "Good boy," he whispers, reluctantly pulling out only to roll to the side and take Ryan with him, hands already on the makeshift gag, working it free of Ryan's mouth.

Shifting, Ryan moves until he can curl into Sam, legs and arms wrapped around his lover. He's wet, messy again, and the scent of sex is thick in the humid air. He whimpers softly, very softly, and rubs his cheek against Sam's shoulder.

Sam slides his hand down Ryan's back, arm holding him close. Slips his fingers between Ryan's cheeks, two into his wet hole. "You okay?" he whispers.

Mumbling softly in protest, Ryan tightens his hold. "Yeah," he whispers. Now that he's coming back to himself, he's worried about how much noise he might have made, despite the gag. "I'm good."

"You feel good," Sam murmurs, smiling, probing a little deeper, the slick openness of Ryan's body arousing the hell out of him even though he's just come. His boy. His mess.

Now Ryan has to sink his teeth into his bottom lip to keep from whimpering, and he still can't help the way he automatically rocks back on Sam's fingers, fucking himself. He shivers, wickedly sensitive.

Pushing them deeper, Sam finally stills. "Think you can sleep like this?" he whispers.

Ryan's eyes open wide in the darkness. "With your fingers inside me?"

Sam nods. "Yeah."

Swallowing a groan, Ryan nods. "Yeah," he whispers, even as he kisses any thought of sleep goodbye. Arousal is already starting to pump in his cock again. "Will you be comfortable though?"

Sam grins. "We might as well be sleeping on the ground," he says, shifting against the useless mattress pads under their too thin sleeping bags. "Having my fingers up your ass is going to be the least of my discomfort."

Ryan smiles crookedly back, awash in one of his odd shy moments. "Okay," he whispers, flexing around Sam's fingers, his breath catching.

"Besides," Sam murmurs. "If you can't sleep, I might just see how many times I can get you to come."

"Christ," Ryan mutters. "Now you can be damn sure I won't get any sleep."

"But you love me anyway, right?" Sam grins, unable to help himself, fingers twitching inside Ryan.

Ryan moans. "I think you're just trying to get revenge on me for handling the hiking better," he whispers, because if Sam keeps him on edge all night, then of course he'll be a wreck tomorrow. He sighs, resigned. "But yeah, I love you anyway."  



End file.
